Here I Am: A National Treasure Fanfic
by IrisGirl1402
Summary: What would happen if instead of just Ben Gates, Riley Poole and Abigail Chase, there was another character; a friend from Ben's past? Now, Margot Blue Ellis is a part of the team- what's different, and what's the same? RileyxOC
1. Chapter 1: I've Found You

**Chapter 1: I've Found You**

**Blue's POV**

My parents never could stay in one place for too long, and neither could I. As a child, I grew up hopping from country to country, continent to continent. My parents home-schooled me in science, math, English and art, also teaching me to speak multiple different languages, which I learned quickly. They taught me Spanish, German and French, both of which I've used, whether it be in the country of origin or not. I never really needed to be schooled in history or in social studies because of all the traveling we did. Later in my life, I began to learn more languages rather quickly as we traveled to different countries.

When my parents sent me to high school, I was bored beyond belief—I never fit in with all the other kids, so I focused on my school work, but all of it was so easy. And when I wasn't doing that, I was reading or writing.

It was my freshman year that I met my best friend. Neither of my parents could pick me up because their flight home from Italy had been delayed due to the storm, and my baby-sitter hadn't planned on having to pick me up and was already on another job, so I was forced to walk home through a bad storm with no umbrella and no raincoat. I had just reached the bottom of the front stairs of the school when somebody's backpack flung around from behind and hit me in the back of the head. I fell flat on my face, my own backpack flying through the air and landing a few feet in front of me. I stood up, scrambling to get my bag before it was soaked through, but a hand reached out and grabbed the back of my nice shirt and yanked me backwards.

I looked up and found myself face to face with the meanest guy in our school, Sam Morris. He grinned down at me, putting a hand on my back and drawing me closer. His breath stank like he hadn't brushed his teeth in days. He kept pulling me closer, even though I was leaning back as far as I could. The rain splashed in my eyes and filled them with cold water, which soon became hot and salty with tears. They trickled down my face, and in my despair I did the only thing I could think of.

"YOU GOD-DAMNED JERK!" I yelled, bringing up my leg up as hard as I could, kneeing him in the crotch.

He doubled over in pain, clutching his abdomen. I took my chance to escape and yanked myself away, backing up towards my school bag. I grabbed the handle and was about to turn to run away when I saw him running at me, screaming. He stopped and skidded a bit in front of me, throwing his hand up and hitting me over my eye and nose with his enormous fist.

I sank to the ground, hands covering my face. I felt a large sneaker come in contact with my stomach, knocking the wind out of me, causing me to gasp and curl up even harder on the concrete. I gingerly touched my nose with one hand and held my aching stomach with the other, only to pull one away from my face and see blood, along with Sam racing away, backpack over his head, laughing merrily.

"I hit the bitch! I hit the bitch!" He sang out to the skies.

I felt more tears come, washing slowly over my face, but I made no sound. I pulled myself into a ball of pain on the ground, letting the rain wash over me, soaking me through.

I didn't know how long I lay there on the hard ground, but I knew that sooner or later the rain stopped pouring down and the sun came out from behind a cloud. I flinched when I felt someone brush my cheek. I opened my eyes and tried in vain to push myself away, fearful that Sam had come back to hit me again.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm not gonna hurt you," a gentle voice whispered.

I looked up and saw a boy that was in the senior class, but I had never really talked to. He was like me, always getting picked on by other classmates, but I didn't really know him. Ben, I think his name was.

"Do you want some help?" he asked, already picking up my backpack and pulling it onto his shoulder.

I just nodded in pain, still holding a hand to my face now that the ache in my stomach had mostly gone away, but I suspected there would be a bruise. Ben looked a little unsure of what to do at first, but then clearly made up his mind.

He slipped an arm around my waist on the opposite side from my hurt eye, and I put my free arm around his shoulders. He crouched and helped to pull me to my feet, supporting most of my weight. After a while of just standing there, he spoke again.

"Can you walk?"

I didn't say anything, but slowly took my arm from around him and put more weight on my own two feet. I found that I could balance, despite the pain. I nodded to him, but didn't meet his gaze. I was ashamed, though I didn't know why. I had done nothing wrong…

"You want me to walk you home?"

I gave him a small smile. "Yes, please."

We had almost made it to my house, walking in silence when he spoke again.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I remember your name…"

"Margot," I responded. Then, after a little pause, "But you can call me Blue."

He smiled. "Middle name?"

"Yeah. You're Ben, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

We reached my house, and I took a key from around my neck, unlocking the door. I gestured inside. "You can come in if you want. My parents won't be back until tomorrow morning."

"Oh, where are they?"

"Italy," I sighed, remembering my last trip to the amazing country.

"Wow. Without you?" he chuckled.

"Yeah, this time. I went when I was seven. I loved it there!"

We walked inside, and I told him he could watch TV or something while I went upstairs to change. For the rest of the night, we sat in my living room and talked, and he brought me a bag of ice from the freezer and I put it on my eye. In return for all his help, I made him dinner, and we ate in front of the TV, still talking and laughing about the cartoons. I learned that ever since he was a kid, he had been fascinated with history, and I told him all sorts of stories from different countries. He told me his family's story of the Templar Treasure, and we talked about that for hours. I quickly developed a passion for it, and we discussed the clue, wondering what it could mean. He left later that night, maybe even in the wee hours of the next morning, saying that he had to get home before his dad did from a business trip in Florida.

And from that day on, Ben Gates and I were best friends.

888

We still talked when he was in college, but after I went away to Germany, I never saw him again. We emailed some, and I followed him on Facebook, but we never actually saw each other face-to-face. That is, until today.

For some reason, I had ended up back in the States for the second anniversary of my parents' death. It was a car accident in England—some drunken American idiot driving on the wrong side of the road.

I had taken a short trip to the cemetery to tell them I loved them, which I hoped they knew when they died. I said it almost every day, wondering if maybe, just maybe, they could hear and understand me. Well, doesn't everybody do that? Talk to the dead?

I was back in D.C., wandering around aimlessly, thinking about how good life had been to me. I had stopped back at my favorite place in the city—the Lincoln Memorial. Big old Abe sat there in his large, white chair, forever doomed to stay in the same exact place, staring through unseeing eyes out into the hustle and bustle of the world.

God, I would _die_ if I had to be like that. I went to one of the great, white columns holding up his fortress, leaning against it, looking out at the Washington Monument, the Capitol building and the Reflecting Pool. That was when I heard it.

"The fact is, the only way to protect the Declaration _is_ to steal it. It's upside-down."

It was like music that I hadn't heard for the longest time, the sound of that voice chorusing through my ears and echoing in my brain, tugging my eyes over in the direction of the people having the conversation. I smiled when I saw him, standing over another man, on knee bent up on the marble step, one hand in his pants pocket and the other giving small, subtle gestures. And I knew it was him—he hadn't changed a bit. Ben Gates. My best friend in the whole, wide world that I hadn't seen in nine years.

The other man stood up just after Ben sat down, and I slowly ambled towards them, listening in on their conversation while everyone else just waltzed on by.

"Ben, for God's sake. It's like… stealing a national monument. It's like stealing _him_," he exclaimed, gesturing to Honest Abe in his marble throne. "It can't be done! Never mind that it _shouldn't _be done, but it _can't _be done."

I chose just that moment to cut in.

"Ah, well that's where you are utterly and completely wrong, _monsieur_," I chuckled, walking down a few of the steps between me and them. "As far as I'm concerned, the only things that 'can't be done' are traveling through time and reading _Remembrance of Things Past_ in twenty-four hours. But even those—well, Einstein worked on the first, and I'll continue to try for the second." I smiled at them as Ben turned around, his mouth agape. "Ben, close your mouth. You'll catch flies."

The other man looked confused, glancing between Ben and myself, before settling for eyeing me up and down. Realizing that neither Ben nor I were going to say anything, he spoke up.

"So… do I get an introduction?" he asked.

I smiled, and as I was about to introduce myself, Ben finally stood and managed a few words. "Margot? What… what are you doing here?"

He began to walk over to me, but I met him running, gripping him in a bone-crushing hug, which he returned a little more tenderly. "I came to see Mom and Dad, and thought I would come and take a self-tour of D.C. again." I paused, smirking. "You know I hate being called that," I whispered in his ear.

He laughed heartily. "Yup, you haven't changed a bit, Blue!"

I pulled back when the other man cleared his throat. "One again, do I get introductions?"

Stepping away from the hug and opening my mouth to respond, I was cut off by Ben for a second time. I glared at him. "Riley, this is Margot. Margot, this is Riley. Riley, Margot… Margot, Riley."

I reached out and shook Riley's hand. "Call me Blue. It's my middle name," I added after seeing his confused look. I could tell by his handshake that he had an office job at some point.

"And… dare I ask how you two know each other?"

Ben and I looked at one another. "We were best friends in high school. Then Blue here raced off to Germany for college and I stayed in D.C. at Georgetown, then went to MIT, then went to Panama City for the Naval Diving and Salvage Training Center."

"Wow, you really got around, Ben. Look at you, all smart and grown up… and trying to steal something without me! How could you?" I asked in mock anger, then burst out laughing.

"Before I get to that… how are your Mom and Dad? You said you went to see them…" I looked away, tearing up a little. I would never get over it, and I didn't really want to talk about it. Not yet. "Blue, what's wrong?"

I sniffed and turned my back to him slightly, not wanting to look at him or him at me. "Car crash in London. They were buried in Silver Spring." I could tell from a sharp inhale that he had stiffened. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Riley looking confused. Then a look of realization spread across his face, and finally one of sympathy.

"Oh, Blue. I'm so sorry. I should have been there—"I cut Ben off, not wanting to get into the details.

"So, what's this about stealing something?" I turned back around. "I've been told I'm the master street criminal." Riley took a step back and I laughed. "Don't worry, Riley, I never _actually_ was a street criminal. I've just been told that I'm good at stealing stuff. For instance…" I opened up my clenched palm and tossed him something, which he caught and looked at. "Riley, there's your watch back. Ben, here is your wallet." I handed him the brown leather pouch.

Both of them took back the items with astonishment. "But… how did you…" Riley stammered.

"I ask again, what are we going to steal?"

"'What do you mean 'we', kemosabe?'" Ben smirked, quoting _The Lone Ranger_ while putting his wallet back in his pocket.

"By 'we', I mean the two of you are thinking of stealing something, and I want in. No buts."

Both men sucked in a breath, and I looked at them, particularly Ben. "Ah, my friend, you always were quite easy to read." I stepped towards him, and whispered softly in his ear, making sure Riley couldn't hear what I was saying. I knew I could pry it out of at least one of them, and the easiest would be the one I knew the best. "It's something big, isn't it? Something that if you _do _steal, you would go to prison for the rest of your life for. But it's important, isn't it? Because you are both good men, and I know you in particular very, very well. You're only stealing it to protect whatever it is, am I right?"

Ben sighed, giving in "You always were good at that, weren't you?"

Shrugging, I responded, "It's a gift," trying to hide my smile.

Ben looked me in the eyes, searching for hesitation, even a tiny glint. When he found none, he answered hesitantly.

"The Declaration of Independence."

* * *

**Well, there you have it, folks! First chapter up! I would appreciate reviews-I tend to be hard on myself, so constructive criticism and/or kid words are also welcome! Thank you all! If I'm in a good mood, I'll post the next chapter up tomorrow, and if not tomorrow then on Monday. **

**Eek! Going to see ****_Now You See Me _****again tomorrow! Oh my God I love that movie! I strongly suggest you go see it, too! Let's try and make this movie the most popular of they year, people! If we succeed, I will never ever stop thanking you!**

**xxIrisxx**


	2. Chapter 2: Yes, We Can

******Well, here it is guys! Chapter two! Sorry I didn't get to update it yesterday-I'm paining my room, and I had to move all my furniture back in before we had a bunch of guests over... oh, my God my back is ****_killing_**** me! Anyways...**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Yes, We Can**

**Riley's POV**

"I ask again, what are we going to steal?"

This girl, no matter how much Ben trusted her, could _not_, (I repeat) could _NOT_ come with us to steal the Declaration of Independence. It would be dangerous, and we were trying to stop a bunch of criminals, and… did anybody miss the part about it being _THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE?! _I mean, of course she didn't know that we were going to steal this specific thing yet, but once she did, I didn't know her well enough to know whether she was going to back out and tell the police, just plain back out and _not_ tell the police, or (the worst option) come with us and help. In which case all three of us would go to jail. Which was not going to happen. She was not going to do that. And neither were we. We were not going to steal the Declaration of Independence.

Even though she was probably one of the prettiest girls I had ever met… with her loose, dark grey tank top and light, mocha brown knit sweater over her shoulders… Her dark blue jeans that hugged her skin… blonde hair, streaked with brown, tied back in a loose bun and a pair of amber sunglasses rested on top of her head… No matter how pretty Blue was, she most defiantly was not going to help us steal one of the most important artifacts in America.

While all of this was running through my head, Blue had stepped up to Ben, leaning on him and standing on her tip-toes, whispering quietly to him. Her breath stirred his hair lightly and he kept flinching—I couldn't tell whether it was from the words she was saying, how close she was standing to him, or how her breath was tickling his ear.

She stepped away after a bit, a smile spreading over her face when she saw his expression, which clearly said 'I'm going to do this, but I am never, ever going to forgive myself, am I?'

A small sigh escaped Ben. "You always were good at that, weren't you?"

Her smile grew, lighting up her eyes with a sparkle. "It's a gift."

I drew in a breath hesitantly before blowing it out again, a sudden headache developing just above my temples. Ben was searching her face for even the smallest bit of hesitation, but when he found none, he mumbled the four words that could spark any number of reactions.

"The Declaration of Independence."

She looked a little taken aback for a moment, then turned to me. "He thought of this plan himself, didn't he? You had not part?"

"Why on Earth do you think _I _would have been the one to think of this?"

"Eh, you're right. You're not insane enough. You, on the other hand," she faced Ben, "I don't know whether to be more scared for you or Riley." I smiled at that. How could she be so calm about this? Any other person who actually believed us (which weren't many people) would have been freaking out. "But I know that I can certainly be madder at you, because I am going to be the one who will have to bail you out of jail. Riley's not going to jail, I can already tell that."

"Well, I know I'm not going to jail, because it _can't. Be. Done._" Blue opened her mouth to tell me differently, and go on about _Remembrance of Things Past_ and time-travel, but I continued. "Let me prove it to you."

I shrugged my shoulders and held out my hands in a pleading gesture, and I saw Blue eye me up and down. Ben wasn't laughing, but I could see it in his face that he really wanted to. Eventually, they both gave in, and I grinned, just hoping that I could bring their minds out of this lunacy.

888

"Alright. Ben, Blue, Pay attention. I have brought you to the Library of Congress."

"No, Riley, this is the San Diego Zoo? Who are you kidding?" I glared at Blue, then at Ben, who was also smirking. I decided to just ignore their snide comments.

"Why? Because it's the biggest library in the world."

"Yes, Riley, we know. History nerds, remember? More than 35 million books and print materials… 3.4 million recordings… 13.6 million photographs… 5.4 million maps… 6.5 million pieces of sheet music and 68 million manuscripts, all held on eight-hundred and thirty-eight miles of bookshelves."

"Aww, Blue come on. Let's just listen to what he has to say. Who knows—it might be interesting." Ben winked at her, and she smirked again.

"Not any more interesting than the San Diego Zoo. Man have you seen the tigers? Amazing…"

"Guys, come on. Please?" I looked at them booth pointedly, and they stared back, Blue still smirking and Ben putting on his usual 'I'm listening, so talk' face.

"Alright, Riley. I will shut up and listen to your point. But after this is over, I'm going back to San Diego," Blue stated matter-of-factly.

I was beginning to think this was a bad idea, but decided to just go on anyway. At least now I had their attention—for however long. "Over 3.5 million books, and they're all saying the same exact thing. Listen. To. Riley." Ben was looking down at a book he had set in front of him on the desk, and Blue had pivoted in her seat so that her legs were outstretched and resting on Ben's lap, also reading through the book. They both looked up at the ridiculousness of my statement, but said nothing.

"What we have here, my friends, is an entire layout of the archives. Short of builders' blueprints, sure, but you've got construction orders, phone lines, water and sewage—"Blue made a face at that—"it's all here." I picked up a book from my pile and showed them the page, pointing with a pen.

"Now, when the declaration is on display, OK, it is surrounded by guards and video monitors and little families from Iowa and little kids on their eighth grade field trip. And beneath an inch of bulletproof glass is an army of sensors and heat monitors that will go off the minute anybody gets too close with a high fever." I flipped a page in the book and they followed along, looking intrigued. Mostly.

"Now, when it's _not_ on display, it is lowered into a four-foot thick, concrete, steel-plated vault, that happens to be equipped with an electronic combination lock and biometric access denial systems."

Blue looked at ben and he glanced over at her, nodding.

"You know, Riley, Thomas Edison tried and failed nearly two-thousand times to develop the carbonized cotton-thread filament for the incandescent light bulb," Blue said. I think she was mocking my use of scientific language.

"Edison?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Blue smiled again. "Mm-hmm. And when he was asked about it he said 'I didn't fail. I just found out two-thousand ways how _not_ to make a light bulb.' But he only needed one way to do it."

Ben smiled at her and pulled up the book that they had been looking at, setting in in front of me. "The Preservation Room. Go ahead, enjoy," Ben teased, but I wasn't listening. Had they really found one book that had a way to steal the Declaration while I had given them twenty book son how _not_ to? Well, I guess that was the part about Edison.

"Do you know what the Preservation Room is for?" Blue asked.

Not knowing what to say, I stared at the pages. "Delicious… jams and jellies?"

Blue laughed quietly and Ben took over. "No. That's where they clean repair and maintain all the documents and the storage housings when they're not on display or in the vault." How had he known about this I hadn't? "Now, when the case needs work, they take it out of the vault and directly across the hall into the Preservation Room. The best time for us…"

"…or Ian…" Blue reminded him.

"…to steal it would be during the Gala this weekend, when the guards are distracted by the VIPs upstairs. But we'll make our way to the Preservation Room where there's much less security."

I flipped through the page of the book he had handed me while Ben and Blue waited patiently, judging my reaction. "Huh. Well… if Ian…" I tried, but continued when Blue raised an eyebrow. "Uh… Preservation Room… Hmm. The Gala, huh?" I looked up. "As much as hate to admit it, this might be possible."

Ben remained calm, but Blue had by now taken her feet from his lap and was bouncing up and down in her seat like a little kid. We both stared at her, slightly concerned.

"Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes! I, Margot Blue Ellis, convinced ever-pessimistic Riley Poole to help us steal," she lowered her voice, "The Declaration of Independence to find the Templar Treasure! Woo!"

"You know, we do have preparation work to do and we only have one day to do it… wait how did you know what we were stealing it for? Nobody said anything about the Templar Treasure…"

"Oh, please. I know all about Ben's family and the Treasure. What else would he be stealing the most important document in American history for?" This time, instead of a smirk, a look of thrill and excitement found its way across her face. "So, when do we get started?"

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**There you have it! Hope you enjoyed! Read and review-I'm currently also writing another story, so I should be uploading the first chapter for ****_that_**** one onto here today as well, then I should be continuing to update every two or three days for each one. Usually two days in between updates, but who knows.**

**Yay! I'm the happiest person on the face of the planet! I went to go see ****_Now You See Me_**** again today (that's what my other FanFic is for) and I love it so so so so so so so so much! When I get it on DVD, I'm going to move up to my room, steal my mom's laptop and a lifetime supply of Pop Tarts, biscuits, turkey sausage, my own personal microwave and several packs of Izzies and watch it over and over and over again.**

**Then again... *devil face***

**xxIrisxx**


	3. Chapter 3: Wakey-wakey!

**Chapter 3: Wakey-wakey!**

**(Blue's POV)**

* * *

As I sat in the seat of Riley's red van, heading over to park beside the subway early in the morning before all the rush, I recalled last night and this morning with glee.

"Riley, we all know that you are _not_ a morning person, so I'm sending Blue over to your apartment to wake you up, alright?" Ben had asked him (though it was more of a command than a question), already writing down his address on the back of my hand.

"No, not all right. I do not appreciate being woken up in the morning by somebody else! And why do we have to do it so early, anyways?" He whined.

I answered for Ben. "Because the subways won't be busy and people won't suspect us. It's getting dark—I'd better go ahead and get back to my hotel. You know how slow cab service is in D.C."

Riley just grumbled angrily and began muttering to himself, walking back to his car while Ben and I looked on in amusement.

"See you in the morning, Riley! I can't promise a peaceful wake-up!" I called after him as he opened the door to his van. He paused to glare at me before sliding in and turning on the engine.

I could tell that I was really going to like him, even though I had just met him a few hours ago.

888

The next morning, I woke up at five, long before the sun had risen or the noise of the city began below me.

I rubbed my eyes and got up. After showering, I chose to wear something a little more tourist-y. I chose a flowing purple tank top that was ruffled into three layers in the front, a pair of dark blue jean shorts, matching purple converses, and a pair of black sunglasses. I studied myself in the mirror, twirling around.

"There you go, Blue. That's a pretty good tourist look... I guess..." I shrugged, smiled, and began to walk over to Riley's apartment. It wasn't that long a distance, so I figured I'd give the cabbies a break.

Ben had given me his key because he knew Riley wouldn't open the door at six o' clock in the morning. To me, waking up at six was late. Most people found that strange, but I never really cared. I had fairly good sleeping habits—the latest I usually stayed up was ten, then I woke up at five-thirty and was ready for the day. Life was good!

I knocked on Riley's door first to let him know that I was here before unlocking it and stepping inside. All the lights but one in the kitchen were off, and there was very little sunlight (it was early in the morning _and_ he had the curtains closed), making it a little difficult to see.

From what I could see, everything looked clean and organized, slightly surprising me after my initial impression of Riley. His apartment wasn't large, but it wasn't too small either. There were two floors, and the first one had a small kitchen on one side and the rest of the first floor was the living room, equipped with a desk, a small TV, a coffee table in the middle, a couch and a rocking chair.

When I first heard the light snoring, I though it was coming from upstairs. But when I walked quietly over to the bottom of the stairs to investigate, I realized that it was coming from the living room. I entered stealthily and what I saw was probably the funniest thing I had seen all week.

Riley had fallen asleep on the couch, but in a really odd position. He had one leg resting over the arm, but the other one was bent in an strange way off the side, dangling down so it just brushed the carpet. In one hand he limply held the TV remote, and in the other he was clutching a pillow to his chest—it looked to have been the one that his head should have been on.

I bit down hard on my finger, trying to contain my laughter, at the same time thinking _'Wow, he actually looks kinda cute like that'_ then, after mentally slapping myself, _'that thought did _not_ just go thought my brain.'_

I shook my head, and walked over to him, pulling his leg back up onto the couch. I was sure that would wake him up, but instead he just snorted a little and went back to snoring lightly. I frowned, realizing that this was going to be a little harder than I thought. But, being the nice person that I was, I decided to wake him up gently.

I walked over to where his head was and squatted down next him on the floor, so we were eye-level.

"Riley," I said in a sing-song voice. "Come on, sleepy head, we have to get going. We have a computer system to hack and a Declaration to steal."

He groaned, turning his over to face me. His eyes opened groggily, but snapped to attention when he registered the fact that I was right there in front of him.

"Blue!" He bolted up into a sitting position, and I stood up once again, walking a little bit away from the couch so he had room to stand as well. He set his pillow down and tried to straighten his hair. "Blue, what the _hell_ are you doing in my apartment? How did you even get in?"

I giggled and sighed. "Don't you remember anything about what we talked about last night?" He shook his head, confused. "We talked about me coming over here at six to wake you up... Ben gave me his key, remember?"

He still looked confused, but then realization dawned. "Oh, yeah! Still... sorry, I was just a little surprised to see you sitting here in my apartment..."

"Yeah, I would be, too. We only have another forty-five minutes until it's seven and rush hour starts. Go change and do whatever else, mmkay?" I ordered him.

He nodded and turned to straighten the pillow back into it's spot. "Sure thing... you can stay down here if you want. I've gotta shower, too. I'll be back in fifteen."

I nodded and sat down on the warm, comfortable couch, watching him as he walked up the steps. I rested my elbow on the arm, then lay my chin in the palm of my hand. I closed my eyes, thinking about the reality of this situation.

We were about to steal the most important document in the history of America, and if we didn't get to it before Ian did, then every tourist who came to D.C would be presented with either a pile of ashes or an animal skin run through a cheap shredder from Staples. It was either Ian get it or us. _If_ we even got to it. If we were caught, then we would go to prison. If we succeeded, we would still go to prison at the end. Whether or not we had found a treasure that re-defined history in the process.

_This whole operation has a very large margin for error, _I realized. _We're basically relying on luck! I would have thought Ben would be able to do this a little better, but considering that this is Ben Gates that we're talking about, you never know._

I didn't know how long I sat there in that position with my eyes closed, still thinking, before I heard footsteps coming back down the stairs. I didn't open my eyes.

"Hey, Blue? You awake?"

I raised my eyebrows and nodded in response, allowing my eyes to open again. I saw him standing there, hair wet from the shower, wearing a brown jacket and jeans, carrying a blue backpack and a large, brown duffel bag. I smiled sadly.

"We're going to prison at some point, you know that, right?" I sighed.

Riley looked shocked. "I thought you were all for this?"

"I am. It's just... it's the _Declaration of Independence_! It all seems so ridiculous. I completely see why you lost the FBI and The Department of Homeland Security and that poor lady—Abigail Chase, I think her name was. I mean, really! To anyone not like the three of us, it sounds insane!"

"It still sounds insane to _me_," Riley stated.

"Yeah, me too." I cleared my throat and stood up, taking a hold of the blue backpack, an action that was met with much resistance on Riley's part. "It's not as heavy as the duffel, I'll bet." He began to protest again, but I put a finger over his lips to shut him up. "Come on. We should go. We've got a lot of illegal work to do!"

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**Sorry that chapter was a little shorter than the rest. I'll try to make the next one longer, but I can't make ****_too_**** many promises ;D**

**Anyways... please tell me what you think. Am I portraying the characters well? As in, do they seem like the characters you know and love from the movie? Well, obviously you don't know Blue, but you can talk to me about her, too! **

**I'll try to update soon! Ta-ta for now!**

**xxIrisxx**


	4. Chapter 4: Of Subways and Lasers

**Sorry I was gone for so long, guys! Long story short, first I was sick, then I was gone for a week in Arizona, 10 miles down a dirt road with a limited quota on the Wi-Fi. So, again, sorry for the long wait! Here's the next chapter! ;D**

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**Chapter 4: Of Subways and Lasers**

**(Riley's POV)**

I didn't really know what to think about all this. I mean, there was a certain balance here that we had to deal with.

To start, it's the most important document that has ever existed in this country. Second, if we didn't steal it, then Ian was going to and he would destroy it. Third, if we _did_ manage to get to it, then we would go to prison. And then you add in the whole treasure factor and it gets even more complicated from there.

I kept glancing over at Blue who was leaning back in her seat, her head tilted up, staring up at the ceiling and occasionally rolling her eyes over to look outside at the buildings zipping by on the streets of D.C.

"So, Blue, how exactly did you and Ben meet?" I asked cautiously.

She didn't look at me, but laughed a little, which really confused me. "I got beat up by some kid in my first year of high school. Ben was a senior. He helped me back to my house and he stayed for a while because my parents were in Italy and his dad was getting home from a business trip. We talked for hours and found that we had a lot in common. Then just like that," she raised her hand to snap her fingers, "we were best friends. But I never saw him again after that year when he went to college. We kept up for a few years, but we never actually met each other face to face again after I went to Germany."

I nodded. "So why _did_ you race off to Germany?"

I glanced at her and saw her looking at me, turned to the side and curled up on her seat, knees to her chest, arms reaching up to hug the headrest. I turned back to the road, looking for a place to park close to the subway entrance.

"I don't know, really. I thought it would be neat. I went to the Berlin School of Applied Sciences, but I didn't really know why I was there for the entire five years that I stayed in Germany. After that, I came back to America and went to travel with my parents around the world. They went to go live in London and I went with them to stay for the first two years. And then... you know what happened. And I've been traveling around the world ever since."

By now I had parked right by the stairs leading down to the subway. As much as I hated to admit it—Ben and Blue had been right about not that many people parking their cars here at six-thirty in the morning.

I turned to face her, but saw that she was already unbuckling her seat belt, grabbing the blue backpack (that _I _should be carrying—it's the gentlemanly thing to do), and opening her door. "Come on, let's get a move on, Mr. Tech Man. We can walk-and-talk."

I sighed and hopped into the back of the van, grabbing my duffel bag full of equipment. She opened the sliding door for me and shut it again once I hopped out, then we proceeded to walk down the escalator into the subway station.

We walked in silence, and I found the control room marked 'EMPLOYEES ONLY'. Ignoring this, I looked around to make sure that there were no guards or anybody there to see us, then turned the knob and walked inside.

I decided to just talk to Blue about what I was doing instead of all that personal stuff that we had been speaking of.

"Blue, can you help me?" She was kneeling down on the floor, tying her shoe again, but she nodded and stood up to help.

"What'cha need?" She asked, setting a hand on my shoulder.

I handed her a long stick with a video camera and a remote-control claw on the end. She took it, holding it gently in her hands and looking it up and down. I then took a metal drill of sorts and began to cut a hole in the conduit surrounding the wires that would allow us access to the National Archive's security camera feed.

I blew the residue away from the piping, turning back to my computer. "OK, Blue. Put the end of the stick that has the claw up into the pipe, then keep pushing it up until I say 'stop'." She did as she was told, slowly inching the stick up the pipe. Just as she was running out of room, I saw what I was looking for. "OK, stop!" She did, holding the stick steadier than even I could have.

"Hello," I said into the computer, looking at the array of wires from the security cameras. "Blue, how come you don't even jiggle the stick _at all_?"

She giggled. "Oh, yeah, I guess I hadn't mentioned that. One of the reasons I can travel the world so much—I'm a professional horseback rider. You learn to keep your hands _really_ still when you're training for the Olympics." I glanced at her in surprise.

"Really? Hmm, I guess you look like a rider. You just don't seem the type, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

I turned back to the laptop, fiddling with the joy stick on my left so that the claw would grab onto one of the wires. It was the hallway, so I recorded a few seconds of that for our plan that would be executed later tonight.

"So, what kind of riding do you do?" The next feed I got was of the Preservation Room, so I continued to work on that one with a new piece of equipment that would allow _us _to see everything that was happening but not the security crew watching the tapes.

"I'm a jumper, but I used to do dressage. I own a little seven-acre place out in the suburbs just outside of D.C., and that's where I keep my horses. I have three. I'll show you pictures when you're done."

"Well, lemme just set this down behind here... and I'm done." I closed my laptop and turned around on the little chair to see her fiddling with her phone.

She walked over to me slowly, eyes on her iPhone and scrolling through what I guessed were pictures. She turned around and sat down on my lap: I stiffened in surprise, but quickly relaxed when she leaned back against me and I caught the scent of her hair—slightly minty, but not overpowering. I tried to focus myself when she held the phone up to me.

The image showed a pretty white-and-gray speckled horse with black legs and cream-colored mane and tail jumping over a few poles while a person I didn't recognize leaned far over it's neck, looking straight forward.

"That's Diego, my only boy. He's my favorite for jumping, cause he's so calm all the time and he never gets spooked. He's an American Quarter Horse. "

I nodded. "Who's the person in the picture?"

"Oh, that's my Olympic trainer, Kate. She also happens to be my cousin—made things much more exciting!" She swiped to another image, this one of a jet-black horse with a long, frizzy mane and tale. It wasn't being ridden, but was grazing in a field of tall grass. "And this is Night, my Andalusian." I gave her a questioning look, not knowing at all what she had just said. "A Spanish breed. We had her specially imported from overseas so I could use her in the Olympics."

"Ah," I nodded. This girl was amazing! Not only did she travel the world, but she had horses from Spain that she rode in the Olympics! But even beyond that—she knew exactly how to explain things in a way that I can understand it and I don't feel like an idiot.

The next picture showed the cutest little pony I had ever seen. She looked to be only about four feet tall, and she was coloered in such a way that looks as though someone had taken a bucket of black paint and duped onto her creamy white fur. She was blotched black and white with a matching mane and tail. Three of her hooves were black and one was white. In the image, Blue was leaning down and hugging her neck—the pony was looking rather confused and a little annoyed.

Blue chuckled when she saw the picture. "This is my favorite picture. That's my little pony Starbuck—we named her after the Battlestar Galactica character. She's really sweet when she wants to be, but usually you have to be pretty careful around her."

"Well, she's adorable. But... what do you use her for? She looks to small to ride," I inquired.

Blue shut off her phone. "We don't really do anything with her. She was a birthday present from my parents after the Olympics a few years back."

"Guess that makes sense..."

We sat there in silence for a minute before Blue cleared her throat and stood up from my lap, pocketing her phone and loading up the blue backpack. I admired how quickly she worked and how she knew exactly what to put in it, and even put everything all right back where I would have had I been packing.

I turned around and closed my laptop, putting it back into its case and slipping into the duffel bag. Blue waited for me by the door as I finished putting everything away, rearranging the room so that it looked like we had never been in. Well, except for the enormous hole in the conduit. That would just have to be ignored...

"We should go _now_. Security comes by in five minutes. We're gonna want to run—" I cut her off by grabbing her hand and pulling her out the door, checking quickly to make sure we weren't being followed or watched.

I yanked her down the pathway towards the busying subway station, all the while gripping onto Blue's hand, noticing how soft it was compared to mine... Wait, stop. I had better not keep thinking like that...

We didn't stop running until we reached the van, where we leaned against the side to catch our breaths.

"Come on... we've got an evil plan to get cracking on!" She exclaimed, opening the door and setting the backpack inside before taking the duffel from me and placing it next to it.

I stared at her incredulously, still gasping for breath. "Wait... you're actually _trying_ to get us to move faster so we can help Ben to do this? I thought you of all people would be trying to slow us down..."

She just shrugged and grinned, opening her door and hopping inside, pulling it shut. I sighed, walking around to my own side and jumped in, starting the car and pulled out of my spot before I got a ticket.

_This is going to be a very, very long night,_ I thought.

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**Well, there 'tis! Please review, folks! I'll love you for it! :D**

**xxIrisxx**


	5. Chapter 5: Lasers Are Red

**Chapter 5: Lasers Are Red…**

**(Blue's POV)**

"Hey, Ben! We're coming over to your apartment now, OK?"

Riley and I were crawling through the early morning traffic of D.C., and I had decided to call Ben to let him know that we were coming.

"Yeah, sure. Have you all had breakfast?"

"No, but I'm starving. How 'bout you, Riley?"

"I could go for something to eat. We can stop somewhere on the way," he replied.

"Riley and I are gonna stop somewhere and get some brunch on the way, alright? We'll be there as soon as we're done with that. You want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good. I'll heat up some lasagne or something to eat, but can you bring me a Coke from wherever you go?"

"Sure," I said. "Oh, and your apartment number is 8A, right?"

"Thanks, and yes it is. I'm still going through the books about the Preservation Room and the security systems on the document. Oh, and do you by any chance have a nice point-and-shoot camera? Mine's broken."

"Hold on, let me ask Riley." I put my hand over the phone to block out the noise. "Riley, do you have a point-and-shoot that Ben can use?" He nodded and gestured to duffel bag. I smiled at him. "Good thinking, Riley!" I reached out to ruffle his hair a little. "Yeah, Ben. He's got one. We'll get you a Coke and we'll be there soon, okay?"

I hung up, not feeling up to waiting for an answer.

"So, where do you want to stop?" Riley questioned.

"How about Bojangles? I'm feeling up for a biscuit, and then we can go the drive-thru."

He nodded. "Sounds fine. You do realize how lazy that makes you sound, right?"

I laughed a little. "My philosophy is that the more people that do the drive-thru, the less bored the people are and the more they get paid."

He just shook his head a little and smiled. "Where you come up with these things, I have no idea."

888

We had arrived at 8A shortly after we had stopped at Bojangles. We were now in the dining room are where Ben had laid out piles and piles of books on the table. After discussing the plan enough that it seemed as though it was written in permanent Sharpie on my brain, we finally dispersed to do our parts.

"Riley, Blue, you head over to the Archives and set off the heat monitors on the Declaration. I'll get to work on my security badge and I'll make the invisible ink. Then Blue, you will need to take the coin to Dr. Abigail Chase at the National Archives, but don't let her know who you are. Give it to her assistant and tell her that the box just came for Dr. Chase, but don't tell her who it's from. Got it?"

I snickered. "Yes, Ben. We've been over it only about three-hundred times!"

"Well, then that's three-hundred reasons for you not to mess up, isn't it?"

My smile fell, and I stuck my tongue out at him as Riley and I made our way back out to the van.

"I really hate it when he does that," I said to Riley as we started driving again.

"Join the club," he sighed.

I didn't say anything else as we pulled up in front of the Archives building.

We parked the van on the street across from the building so that Ben would be able to get into the car easily and quickly if need be. Riley climbed over the centre console and into the back of the van, then looked at me pointedly as he began to take things out of the blue backpack.

"Coming?"

I nodded, copying him and climbing down next to him where we sat side-by-side, leaning up against the back of the driver's seat. He showed me something that looked a silver pen, but it didn't have the point on the end of it where the ink would come from.

"I'm suddenly very scared and I find myself hoping that's a pen and not what I think it is," I said.

Riley smirked, twirling it around in his fingers. "And what do you think it is?"

"You tell me, then I can run if I don't like the answer."

"It's a laser, Blue. Nothing to be afraid of—"

"—unless you put it in the wrong person's hands."

"Exactly… wait, what?"

"The wrong person's hands, meaning you. I have absolutely no idea about how good your aim is, and I don't want to find out the hard way," I joked.

He groaned, then flipped up a flap to reveal a little black button on the side of the silver tube. I shrunk away from him and his laser in mock fear.

"What is your problem? I'm not going to point it at you," he told me, sounding amused.

I laughed at him and sat back upright.

"How do _I_ know that? Or how do _you_ even know that? It could be like a cartoon where somebody points a gun the wrong way then pulls the trigger and they shoot themselves in the head and miraculously survive!"

I was trying hard to sound afraid when I spoke, but at the same time I was holding back my laughter so much that my eyes were tearing up.

He only responded by blocking me out and turning to face the back of the truck, where I saw a little thermometer with a frog on the side. I smiled at it thinking _'that's so Riley'_. I paused, then thought _'wait, I've only known him for, like, a day! How would I know that it's so him?'_

But I didn't have time to think any more before he pressed the button on the side, pointing it at the little ball of mercury at the end of the thermometer. He looked like he was having an easy enough time keeping it steady, and it was only a matter of seconds before the red line began to rise very, very rapidly.

"Cool," we said simultaneously.

I turned to look at him the same time that he turned off the laser and snapped his head around to me, a grin plastered on his face.

"What'da ya' think of my aim now, huh?" he asked.

I smirked at him. "I would say it's pretty good. Here, let me try."

And so there, in the back of the van, the horseback rider and the computer geek had a contest to see who had the steadiest aim with a laser pointer… while they were supposed to be preparing to steal the Declaration of Independence.

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**Sorry that it took me so long to update, those of you who actually read this! I was grounded... I feel no need to say more. And here is where I say goodnight, and please review, because they make my day! Not that I've actually gotten any, yet... humph. I'm starting to wonder if people actually read this... well, actually I know that a few people have followed and favorited it, but other than those folks (I love you guys!)... Anyways, now I have to shut up and go away, because The Mother is calling me... I may have possibly forgotten to feed the dogs this morning. They have eaten her favorite pair of shoes instead. **

**Bye, guys! Wish me luck!**

**xxIrisxx**


	6. Chapter 6 (Part 1): Plans

**Here we are, the next chapter! This chapter has two parts, so never fear! And it took a long time to write, so... yeah. Be happy, my dear readers! I'll post the next part momentarily, I promise. Really, I do, because I already have it written. So HA! I win. Oh, and special thanks to Morgan (a guest) for giving me an awesome review! Kudos to you!**

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**Chapter 6: Plans**

**PART 1**

The plan went perfectly. I had changed into a little yellow-and-white polka-dotted sundress with a pair of dark jeans under it and silver flats before walking over to my destination. Note to self: wear more comfortable walking shoes.

Dr. Chase's assistant had taken the little red box with Ben's note tied to it without question—which made _me_ question how high the general IQ rate for assistants was. I couldn't find this information on Google. Damn the stupid internet.

"Have a nice day, ma'am!" she called after me as I skipped—second note to self: much more comfortable when skipping—out of the building, heading straight for the National Archives where I was scheduled to meet Riley and truly test his aim with the little green light.

I passed the man at the door with my ticket that Ben had insisted on paying for before walking up to Riley, who was pretending to film every last part of the Archives on his video camera. No, wait. _My_ video camera. He better not be actually filming, because I am too pressed for time to delete all of his footage.

"Hey, Ri! Fancy seeing you here, huh?" I whispered, but loud enough for a few people to hear. Gotta blend in, am I right?

"What? Oh, hey, Blue. I was wondering when you'd show up. About time, don't you think?"

I smirked at him and linked his unoccupied arm in mine. "Indeed I do, my good fellow. Don't burn anybody, mkay?" I added in a whisper at his ear, having to stand on my tip toes to reach the extra three inches.

Damn being short.

He nodded to me before turning so that he could face the Declaration of Independence. Checking that nobody was in his way, he pressed the button on the side and the green stream of light shot from the side, though it wasn't noticeable unless you were looking for it. I glanced left and right to make sure nobody was about to walk through it and get cut in half like a wax statue.

The red lights around the glass case started flashing, and that was when we decided to hit the road. We scurried out of there, commenting stupidly to each other about how amazing it all was. Of course, it may have been more interesting if we weren't both so on edge about everything, but it sounded pretty convincing—at least I hoped.

Now as our plan was being executed, Ben and I were in the back of Riley's van, me laying on my back with my feet propped up on the center console, phone in hand, Ben was perfecting his janitor outfit and Riley was driving.

"Blue, how do I look?" Ben asked me, spinning around. I gave him a half-second glance before going back to playing Fruit Ninja on my iPhone and addressing Riley.

"Riley, I'm taking it all back. I wouldn't bet a hundred bucks on a single girl swooning over him in _that_ outfit. Nobody likes a puffy janitor," I joked sarcastically.

I felt Riley swerve the van into a practice parallel park (causing me to hit a bomb instead of the watermelon) and Ben sighed heavily before opening the door the van, pushing in his earpiece a little more as he stepped out.

Riley quickly stepped over me and slid into the stool against the side of the van in front of his collection of technical equipment, surrounded by his wires and Duct Tape and cords.

"Ben, are you sure that we should…" Ben cut him off by slamming the door.

Riley sighed in a very similar fashion to Ben and turned. I sat up and spun around to watch as he pulled his headphones on that were wireless connected to Ben's and my earpieces.

"_Riley."_ Ben's voice crackled to life as the person in subjection fidgeted with dials to his right. _"Can you hear me?"_

"Unfortunately, yeah," Riley responded.

"Trust me, your voice is like music to our ears, Ben. Really, really loud Italian opera music."

"We're all set in here," said Riley, stifling laughter at my comment. Wow, I must be even funnier than I thought! But, seriously, that wasn't even all that funny.

I could hear noise muffled in the headphones, and I guessed that by the way there was no screaming or shouting that Ben had made it through security. I could hear his footsteps echoing on tiled floor, so I guessed he was heading to the bathrooms to change.

"Hey, Ben, if they have golden toilet seats, then steal one for me, alright? Hmm, would that be harder or easier than the Declaration. Maybe we could conduct and experiment... I could go in and try and steal one of the golden toilet seats while _you—_"

Ben cut me off when I heard a door creak and slam shut.

"_Honestly, Blue? Nobody cares!"_

"I do! I've always wanted a golden toilet seat. If we ever go to Buckingham Palace, you _have_ to help me steal one, alright? You know, I wonder if they have some sort of special cleaning supply they use on it, because wouldn't the regular stuff just degrade it and what not?"

Ben sighed again (I noticed how often he did that) and I laughed, taking that as my cue to shut up.

"How do you look?" Riley asked when we heard Ben brushing his hair back with his hands.

"_Not bad,"_ Ben replied, obviously annoyed with us both. Or maybe just me.

"Mazel tov," I said to him.

It wasn't long after that that I heard pretty classical music coming from somewhere in the background.

So, now he's at the Gala. Time to make fun of Ben's non-existent flirtatious side. Dr. Abigail Chase, prepare to be scarred for life.

"_For you,"_ Ben said.

"_Oh, Mr. Brown. What are you doing here?"_

"Is that that hot girl?" Riley asked. I snickered—looks like I wasn't the only one with a plan. Riley glanced over at me and smiled, which I gladly returned in full. "How does she look?"

I could hear Ben stuttering when he next replied. I couldn't tell if it was from our teasing or that he was just a terrible liar. It was probably both, but I wanted to believe that it was from the teasing—maybe Ben would finally get a girl. Although probably _this particular girl_ was not the best one, considering everything.

"_I made a last-minute donation. A big one."_

"Ha! Yeah, like plans to steal some very important things from your Ladyship, Ben. You're a terrible liar, you know. I really ought to teach you some tricks—"

"_Well, on that subject, thank you for your wonderful gift."_

"_Oh, you did get it?"_

"Ben, of course she got it! Do I need to remind you that it was yours truly that gave it to her?" I said in mock hurt.

"_Yes, thank you. You know, I couldn't except something like that normally, but, uh... I really wanted it."_

I glanced over at Riley and saw him bang his head against the back of the van and roll his eyes. Can you say exclusive? No, that wasn't the word I was looking for, actually.

"_Well, you needed it!"_

Ah, of course she did, because everybody needs to collect George Washington's metals in a little velvet box on the walls of their offices. I sure as hell didn't.

"Come on, Romeo, get outta there," Riley called into the mike.

"_I have been wondering, though, what the graving indicated. On the pipe that Big Foot took?"_

OK, now I feel out of the loop. Big Foot? Did I miss something. I was still looking at Riley upside-down, and he just waved it off in an 'I'll tell you later' gesture. Fine, be that way!

"_Hi,"_ another voice said. A man's. Ooh, she already has a boyfriend. Tough luck, Ben! _"Here you go."_

"_Oh, Dr. Herbert, this is Mr. Brown," _Abigail introduced the two.

"_Hi."_

"_Hi."_

"Who's the stiff?" Riley asked.

Ben ignored him (well, it's not like he could have answered) and they did some complicated glass-swapping thing. And it all seemed to be going fine. Maybe he'd even get out of there! But, of course, Ben can't just pretend to be civil in a place like this, can he. Anywhere else, but not a big, fancy Gala with a potential date right in front of him. Of course not.

"_A toast, yeah? To high treason."_ I laughed, very forcibly and making no effort to actually make it sound like a joyous laugh. "_That's what these men were committing when they signed the Declaration. Had we lost the war, they would have been hanged, beheaded, drawn and quartered, and – Oh! Oh, my personal favorite – and had their entrails cut out and burned. So, here's to the men that did what was considered wrong in order to do what they knew was right."_

"Oh, good Lord, shoot me now! And, now you're downing the champagne, aren't you? Three... two... one... and it's gone! Out of the ballpark! Excellent, excellent, no get the hell out of there before you keel over in a drunken heap!"

Oh, I knew him so well. Well, there goes his potential date! Even if she did already have a boyfriend.

Those footsteps again, walking back to the bathroom. I heard him set down the stuff on the Baby Changing Station tray and the crinkle of the champagne glass going into the plastic bag.

"This better work," Riley said. He waited a few more seconds, in which I believe I may have subconsciously sucked in a breath and decided not to exhale. "How does it look?"

"_It's working! It's working..."_

"Unbelievable," I managed, finally letting the stale air out of my pained lungs.

Ben didn't say anything else for a while after that, and I tried to follow along some, knowing htat I was, for now, done with my teasing and commentary. He was throwing stuff away in a creaky garbage can. He was walking down another hallway. The ding of an elevator opening?

"_We're in the elevator."_

Ha! I win.

"OK. I'm gonna turn off the surveillance cameras. Ready? In five... four... three... now."

"What about two and one?" I questioned, but nobody answered.

"Ben Gates," Riley took a pencil out of his mouth when he started to speak. Even though I was upside-down, I could tell it still looked super hot. Wait, no, I am _not_ thinking that! "You are now the Invisible Man.

"I don't think that book really applies to this situation, Ri," I muttered. Again, no reply, but maybe that hint of a smile. Again, super hot. No, stop it!

"_I'm here."_ Meaning the password keyboard. Ooh, puzzles! My speciality.

"OK, give me the letters for her password. What do you got for me?" Slight pause. "Hit me with it."

"_A-E-F-G-L-O-R-V-Y."_

"Anagrams being listed..." It was at this point that I stood up, discarding my phone on the floor, and waltzed over to Riley to see if I could help. If Abigail Chase really was _that_ much of a history nut as she sounded, then maybe I could.

"OK, top results: A glove fry, a very golf, Fargo levy, gravy flow, valey frog, ago fly rev, grove fly a, are fly gov..."

"Somehow, I don't think any of these are going to be her password. It's Valley Forge, Ben. As in the sight in Pennsylvania?" I told Ben. Not that hard.

"I don't have that on my computer."

"Because she hit 'E' and 'L' twice," I offered.

"It's Valley Forge," Ben agreed. "Blue's right for once."

"I am right more often then you give me credit for, Benjamin Gates! I know for a fact that they have golden toilet seats in Buckingham Palace!"

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**Part 2, coming right up!**

**xxIrisxx**


	7. Chapter 6 (Part 2): Plans

**I told you I wasn't lying.**

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**PART 2**

"_We're in."_

"YES!" I shouted. "Ben, I could kiss you right now!"

"_I'm glad I'm not there. Kiss Riley instead—it'll have to suffice."_

I smirked, and before Riley could do anything, I placed a small little peck on his cheek, watching him turn a light shade of pink, glancing my way, but my eyes were trained on the computer screen where Ben was entering into view. Wow... OK... that was uncalled for... but it wasn't _bad..._ in fact...

My train of thought was interrupted by Ben waving at the security camera.

"Hello," Riley said in a perfect British accent. I'm going to have to get him to talk in a British accent all day sometime.

Ben pulled back the sheet covering the case and began pulling out all the bolts. Needless to say, it was not going as quickly as we needed, but we were doing fine until...

"I lost my feed!"

"_What?" _Ben and I said simultaneously.

"I lost my feed, Ben! I don't know where anyone is, I have nothing! Ben, I have no... Ben, I have nothing!"

"Riley, calm down, we'll be fine!" I wasn't so sure, and I think he could tell.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I'm right most of the time," I whispered quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder. He stared up at me for a minute, his gaze flickering between my eyes. "Ben, get out of there! Get out of there now."

"_I'm taking the whole thing. I'll get it out in the elevator."_

"What are you talking about?" Riley asked.

"Ben, it has to be Ian. We knew he would try it tonight, too. He's not stupid enough to pass up a chance like this. He;s the one that cut our feed, I'd bet my life on it."

"Is it heavy?" Riley ignored me, as Ben did to both of us.

Door sliding open. Elevator ding. Pause for thirty seconds. Heightened breathing coming from Ben. Another ten seconds. Gunshots.

"What was that?"

Elevator ding.

"Who's shooting? Ben, are still there? Can you hear me?" I called.

"_Yeah, I'm in the elevator,"_ he panted. _"Ian's here. There was, uh, shooting."_

"So I figured, Ben!" I shouted again.

"I hate that guy!"

"I'm with you there, Riley."

I looked over at the feed again, seeing that it was still blank and nothing was happening. Then, the thoughts started coming clearer.

Ian and his goonies had to have come in a van, then come in from underneath. That was the only way that made sense. Which means that they much be somewhere close by. I climbed back up front and took a shy peek out the window. Yup, just as I though. There was a silver van across the street from us that looked kind of like a milk truck. And there was one of his guys, I couldn't tell who, sitting in the driver's seat. Bad, bad, bad. Very bad. Very, _very_ bad.

I turned back to Riley who was staring at me curiously.

"Ian's truck is just across the street, and they know we're here. We've got to get out, OK? I have a plan, and you're not going to like it, but it's a plan. Tell me if anything important happens, because I'm turning off my ear piece."

"_What? Blue don't..."_

But it was already gone. I yanked the awful thing from my ear and through it to Riley, who stood up from his position to catch it. He paused for a moment, staring slightly behind me and seemed to be listening.

"He just got into some mix-up at the store... not enough cash?" he guessed.

"Oh, Ben." I've always told him to carry at least forty dollars to things like this in cash. Idiot—how often do I have to say I'm right most of the time?

I squatted down and pulled a little squirt bottle from my handbag also tucking my phone into it. I squirted some of the liquid on my tongue, feeling it burn down my throat as I swallowed.

"Riley, get in the front seat and be prepared to drive. Fast and curvy. Here, how's this smell?"

I breathed in his face as he slid past me, and he scrunched up his nose.

"Like you're a drunk."

"Good," I replied, to which I earned an odd look. I took my hair out of its braid, shaking it all over and flicking it over my shoulders. Perfect.

"Tell Ben that I'll meet you at the park in front of the Jefferson Memorial, alright? No 'buts'... I have to go. NOW."

And I was out the passenger door in a matter of seconds, only pausing when I was about to slam it when Riley called out to me.

"You'll be safe, right? Don't go off and get killed."

I smiled at his concern. "I won't. Thanks, Riley. I'll see you soon. Good luck yourself."

I sent him a small wink before closing the door the rest of the way and stepped a ways away from the van. I took a deep breath before I composed myself and stepped towards the silver milk truck across the street, knowing that I was going to hate this with every fiber of my being.

* * *

**Review, please! It makes me happy! Oh, and you know what else makes me happy? I got into our school's play! I'm so excited! Whoo hoo for me! You know, my happiness seems to be rubbing off on you. Are you sure you don't want to review? it'll make you feel better, it really will! Then you can go have a coke and your parents will love you for life!**

**xxIrisxx**


	8. Chapter 7: Guns, Germs and Steal

**I was bored and didn't have a lot of homework. Needless to say, I wrote another chapter! Yay! Go me!**

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**Chapter 7: Guns, Germs and Steal**

**(Blue's POV)**

"Hey, mister? Have you seen a... man, yeah a man! Have you seen 'im? He's tall... but not _too _tall, if you know what I mean... and, uh... dark hair... glasses, but he don't always wear 'em..."

I trailed off, looking at the guy in the driver seat of Ian's truck expectantly, trying to put on a stupid grin. It almost faltered when I realized something... dear God, I'd just described Riley! Why, why, why? Idiot!

"No, I haven't. Are you alright? You look a little..."

I let out a laugh and staggered towards the van, crossing my arms on the driver's window and supporting my weight on the ledge.

"Yeah, just one too many pocket fulls of sunshine! You know what I mean?"

Now, I'd only been drunk once or twice, and it was never, _ever_ anything like this. I only knew how to act from too many friends of mine acting like this.

"No, not at all. Are you _positive_ you're alright—"

I cut him off easily, slurring all my words together and holding in a blush. "Hey, you know, you're kind of cute..."

No. No, not at all. Butt-ugly is more like it. If anyone was cute, he was sitting in a red van across the street, probably watching me. At least he couldn't hear me—one good thing that came out of this situation.

"Well, um, thanks. You're not so bad yourself, miss."

I just gave him a little appreciative 'hmm'. I heard a little think and clanking going on in the back of the van. Ian was back, I knew it. He was coming back, and he was going after Ben, who had the Declaration. As far as I knew.

"SECURITY! Over here! Security!"

That was Abigail Chase. No. Nononononononono this was bad. The alarm was going off at the Archives, Ian was back, and now that woman had the Declaration. Wait! No, Ben wouldn't let that happen! He gave her the souvenir... that's why he was at the gift shop! He bought another copy, and he gave it to her. But, he would have had to use a credit card. Credit card slips were even worse than this situation. We could run from this, but not for long before the FBI found us.

"Gotcha." I heard come quietly from underneath the van. Damn, Ian knew. Cue car chase.

"Oh, no! I just forgot! Ruffles? Ruffles, where are you?" I started calling, looking around and putting my hands up to my mouth to project the sound. I turned back to the man. "If you see that guy I was tellin' ya' about, ring me, right-o? Thanks!"

I then proceeded to skip off (still more comfortable) knowing that Ben and Riley would keep their promise and would meet me back at the park I had told them about. Ben knew it—we had spent time there when we were in high school. It was the perfect spot to do homework and study, which we often did together.

I heard the commotion going on behind me as I skipped faster than I had ever skipped in my life, which was not that hard to do. I heard skidding tires and gunshots, but it was soon drowned out by the sound of multiple police cars driving crazily around the streets of Washington, D.C.

At this point I decided to ditch my silver flats, hopping on one foot and still running as I slipped them off my feet on by one, holding one in each hand and continued to sprint, barefoot, down the empty sidewalks, trying to avoid busy roads. I knew every short cut in this city by heart, so why should I have to worry about getting to the main attractions by the popular ways?

I reached the park, breathing hard, before Riley and Ben did, and I decided that the best way to keep myself from stressing was to pace in my and Ben's favorite spot. Nope, sorry, I think that goes the opposite way. I decided that the best way to _keep myself stressed _was to pace in my and Ben's favorite spot. There, got it right that time!

The van pulled up exactly three minutes and forty-eight seconds after I had arrived. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that it had a broken window and several dents in the doors and sides. So, I had been right about the gunshots!

Ben was the first to get out the car, stepping from the side door as Riley shifted into the passenger side. I dropped my flats onto the soft grass and ran over to Ben, still breathing slightly harder than normal and I had a serious stitch in my side.

I launched myself into his arms. "Ben!"

"Blue! Riley told me what you did—"

"You're OK! You're OK..." I cut him off, whispering and burying my head into his shoulder, hugging him even tighter. He awkwardly patted my back and hugged my a little, too.

I stepped away from him and over to Riley, who had opened the door. I did the same thing I had to Ben, tackling him so that he had to brace himself against the center console to keep from tipping backwards. I threw my arms around his neck and curled my legs up so that I was practically sitting in his lap.

"Are you OK? What happened to the window? What happened?"

He hugged me back more than Ben had. I curled up tighter, by now completely on his lap and hanging from his neck. I lay my head on his chest for a minute, hearing his heartbeat through his jacket. Elevated.

You could have almost called it a moment. But no! The other person that I hadn't noticed was there had to ruin it.

"You have another person in on it, too?"

I hadn't noticed Abigail Chase's accent before. German. Ooh, I can work with this!

"Schön, sie zu treffen, auch Doktor Chase."

"Sie sprechen Deutsch?" she asked, clearly surprised.

"Yes, of course I speak German! I went to college in Germany," I snipped, reluctantly sliding off of Riley's lap and leaning against the car door, hugging myself. Man, was it cold tonight, and the icy wind was chilling me even more.

"I don't believe we've ever met, though you clearly know me."

"Mein name ist Margot Ellis, aber sie können mich anrufen Blue." I switched back to English. "You're Abigail Chase, from the National Archives. Also probably going to be the woman to send us to jail."

"Blue, we need to go to his house. We need the Silence Dogood letters, and the FBI will be at my front door in minutes," Ben said, trying to change the subject. He knew how rude I got when people pissed me off.

I would have asked who he meant by 'his', but the look he gave me told me it all. "Ben, you know he won't like this. He told you to give it up _years_ ago..."

"You have the original Silence Dogood letters? Did you steal those, too?" Abigail asked when I trailed off.

Ben sighed and started pacing again.

"No, they're scans of the originals. Quiet, please."

"How'd you get scans?" Ah, she's thoroughly curious. Well, we can build on this. Perfect!

"Oh, I knew the person who has the originals. Now... shush!"

"Why do you need them?"

Ooh, bad move, Abigail. Actually, good for her, bad for us. Ben, don't you do it...

"She really can't shut her mouth, can she?" Riley held up his hands in defeat and I shrugged, shifting so that I could keep in more body heat. "I'll tell you what, look. I will let you hold onto this if you promise to shut up. Please!" He handed her the red case, looking irritated. She sent him a devilish look. Mine was better.. If looks could kill, he would have been in the I-just-threw-you-into-an-active-volcano zone by my face. I win, Abigail.

_Never go up against a Sicilian when death is on the line,_ I thought.

"Ben, you know what you have to do," Riley said, gesturing at the Declaration. I nodded in agreement.

"I know what to do," he responded, "I'm just trying to think of anything else we _could_ do."

"Well, not to be a, uh, nudge, but you do realize how many people we have after us."

"We probably have our own satellite by now," I stuttered, rubbing my arms.

Riley finally noticed. "Cold?" he whispered.

I nodded, and he wordlessly took off his coat and handed it to me. I accepted it gratefully, pulling it over my shoulders. It was a few sizes too big for me, but it just kept me all the more warm. It smelled like him, too—a little Dum Dums lollipops if you asked me. Mango flavored. Mmm, I loved those things!

"You know, it took you all of two seconds to decide to steal the Declaration of Independence," he told Ben.

"Yeah, but I didn't think I was going to personally have to tell my dad about it."

And then our prisoner and trusted document-holder decided to try the old jail-break trick. Nope, not going to work. Ben went after her and caught her around the waist, lifting her up in the air as she went kicking and screaming at him to let her go.

He let her down and took back the Declaration, which she let go of surprisingly easily. I leaned over to Riley and whispered to him, "If we ever had even the slightest chance of hooking them up, I think we just lost it."

He chuckled a little, and we both turned our attention back to the argument.

"OK, you're let go. Go, shoo."

"I'm not going. Not without the Declaration."

"Well you're not going _with_ the Declaration."

She gave him a look and grabbed the handle that he had just slung over his shoulder, pulling it closer so that their foreheads were almost touching.

"Yes, I am," she insisted. "I'm not letting it out of my sight, so I'm going."

"Wait." Ben realized his mistake in words then. Duh. "You're not going with us with the Declaration."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not."

"Aw, look at you two. Bickering like an old married couple," I interjected. Ben heard me and sent a little glance my way, but didn't back away from Abigail.

"Look, if you wanted to leave me behind, you shouldn't have told me where you were going."

Shit. Thanks, Ben. So much for being discreet. Well, looks like we can add 'kidnappers' to the growing list of charges being held against us.

Riley let his head fall into his arms and I slowly banged my head back against the window.

"You evil little vixen," I hissed, only loud enough for Riley to hear.

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**You're welcome, lovelies! As always, please R&R! Love to you all!**

**xxIrisxx**


	9. Chapter 8: Silence is Golden

**Aaaaannnnd... here's another chapter! Sorry for the wait... and thanks again to all my followers, favoriters, and reviewers! It's nice to know that ****_someone_**** is actually reading this story!**

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**Chapter 8: Silence is Golden**

**(Blue's POV)**

The car pulled up slowly to the big white house that I had known inside-out almost all of my life.

"Well, it looks safe," Riley said.

"Assuming we're not about to be attacked by attacked by a million guys dressed in bulletproof vests that say SWAT on the back of them. Guns blazing, guys, guns are a-blazing."

The other three did nothing but glare at me. I said a few choice words to them in Arabic.

"How many languages do you speak, anyways?" Riley muttered, though I don't think I was meant to hear it.

"Besides English?"

"Mm-hmm."

Huh, maybe I was wrong. "Eight."

"Which eight?"

"Mandarin, Hindi, Spanish, Russian, Arabic, French, German and Bengali. Fluent in all of them, but I'm a little rusty on my Hindi. Maybe I'll go back to India some time soon to practice—assuming I don't get stuck in a prison cell for the remainder of my years alive."

Cue adorable Riley nervous chuckle.

"Park a few blocks away," Ben swiftly changed the subject back to what was more important.

"Well, how long do you think we got?" I asked.

"I'd say a couple hours at the least," Ben responded.

"I hope."

"What do we do about her? I think I have some duct tape in the back..." Riley said.

"Duct tape is silver but silence is golden. Combine the two and you get that pretty shiny platinum color," I yawned, leaning to the side against Abigail who, looking terrified, shoved me off moments later.

"No, that won't be necessary. She won't be any trouble."

"Черт возьми, я люблю клейкой лентой!" I said in Russian. Translation—_Damn it, I love duct tape!_

"Promise you won't be any trouble," Ben continued.

"I promise." Wow, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

"See, she's curious!"

I snickered and Riley chuckled again, but we soon fell into silence as Riley drove the car to park once again. The poor van—it looked like it was about to fall apart. Shot up, broken glass, only three hubcaps... the list goes on.

888

Patrick's face when he opened the door was less than thrilled. On a scale of one to ten on how happy he seemed to see us, I would have guessed a negative twenty. Maybe twenty-two. He might have been a little more excited had he actually seen me, but I was hiding behind Riley, so it kind of just looked like his jacket was floating behind him, but Patrick didn't seem to notice.

"Where's the party?"

"Uh, well, uh..." Nice start, Ben, nice start. "I'm in a little trouble."

Patrick glanced at the three visible people, his eyes lingering on Abigail before going back to Ben.

"Is she pregnant?"

Oh, no. Just because she was going to land us in prison at some point or another didn't mean she had to be embarrassed by the rudest man on Earth the very first time she met him. Oh, no, not today. "Which one do you mean, because she sure as hell ain't. Don't even try and spring a question like that one me—you know the consequences."

I finally stepped out from behind my hiding place, making sure to keep my distance from Riley—I didn't want anybody, especially Patrick, getting the wrong idea.

"Blue? What are you doing here? Last I heard you were in Bengal!" His face instantly went up in brightness by a few notches when he saw me.

"I was. I came back." Note that I made no mention of the treasure.

"I look pregnant?" Abigail whispered to Riley, but I hear her, too.

"Überhaupt nicht, Abigail!" I told her in German. Riley agreed with me with a shake of his head, and I was glad that he at least had enough common sense to know what I said. Kudos to him.

"Well, come on inside," Patrick agreed reluctantly. I guess I was wrong—even with me there, he still wasn't too happy about all this. He guided Abigail and Riley into the living room with a hand on their backs, but I knew my way just find. As soon as I had enough space, I shrugged out of Riley's brown jacket and handed it back to him. I loved the temperature that Patrick kept his house, though some people thought it was still a little cold. "Well, have a seat. Make yourselves comfortable. There's some pizza. It's still warm, I think."

I took a seat on the couch while Riley stood next to Abigail by the fireplace. I took a lice of pizza from the old coffee table, noticing that it was, in fact, still warm. I leaned back against the arm of the couch, waiting for Ben to ease his way into the conversation.

"Dad... I need the Silence Dogood letters. Yeah, it's about the treasure."

Nope, I was wrong again. Wow, I must be on a wrong-streak. Or maybe a not-so-goo-people-reader-streak. It was stupid to assume that Ben would just 'ease into the conversation' because if anything, Ben Gates was a man who liked to dive head first into the tank full of sharks. Well, conversation-wise, anyway. Unless it was about girls. Then he was back away from the edge as far as he could get.

Patrick sighed exasperatedly. "And he dragged you two into this nonsense?"

Abigail nodded vigorously. "Literally."

"I volunteered," Riley and I said in unison.

We looked at each other and shared a secretive smile. I felt that rosy color making its way to my cheeks and looked down. Wow, I was so far gone. Idiot.

"Well, unvolunteer, before you waste your life."

"Knock it off, Dad."

"Sure, sure, I know, I'm the family kook. I have a job, a house, health insurance." Riley came over and sat next to me, taking a slice of the pepperoni pizza as Patrick went on with his usual rant whenever Ben and I brought up the Templar Treasure. "At least I had your mother, for however brief a time. At least I had you. What do you have? Him?" He pointed accusingly at Riley who was shoving the slice of pizza into his mouth. I gave him a pointed look, to which he responded by grinning at me with the pizza still in between his teeth. Giggle fit. "And look at Blue! She manages to travel all around the world every single year to places I've never even heard of—Pitcain Islands! And she does just fine on her own!"

"Actually it's the _Pitcairn Islands—_a group of four volcanic islands that are Overseas Territory of the United Kingdom. Country population: 66. Smallest in the world."

"Look, if you just give us the letters, we're gone," Ben said, used to my information dumps by now.

"You disappoint me, Ben."

"Well, maybe that's real Gates-family legacy. Sons who disappoint their fathers."

Ouch. Not good, Ben. If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all.

"Get out. Take your troubles with you."

I sighed. I knew this was not going to end well. Ben and I only had one option if we wanted those letters, and this was it. Ben seemed to have reached the same conclusion, but I was quicker in deciding whether to use it or not.

"He found the _Charlotte_. Riley, too."

I said, playing with the strings of cheese seeping over the sides of the crust. I saw through my lashes that Patrick was looking between Ben, Riley and me, trying to decide who to address. Of course he picks the badly-spoken son.

"The_Charlotte_? You mean she was a ship?"

"Yeah, she was beautiful. It was amazing, Dad."

"And the treasure?"

Ben nervously rubbed his lips, and I knew he was hoping that Patrick hadn't asked that question. "No, no. But we found another clue that led us here."

Patrick walked away in disappointment—I knew he had told Ben this a thousand times before, and he was the end of his rope. But frankly, so was Ben. "Yeah, and that'll lead you to another clue. And that's all you'll ever find is another clue. Don't you get it, Ben? I finally figured it out. The legend says that the treasure was buried to keep ti safe from the British. But what really happened was the legend was invented to keep the British occupied searching for buried treasure. The treasure is a myth."

He was wrong. He had a point, but he was wrong. I could feel it. Just because the father of my best friend was trying to put me down did not mean that I was going to give up that easily. There are always going to be the pessimists wherever you go and whatever you do, but you have to move past them. Keep on looking, keep on searching, keep on digging. Even if you never find anything, but you'll still know in your heart that you were right all along.

"I refuse to believe that." Yeah, you tell 'em, Ben!

Patrick looked like he wanted to argue, but anybody could see that they would be wasting their time. "Well, you can believe what you want. You're a grown person. What am I doing? Do what you want, Ben. Do what you want."

"He's probably right." Abigail, if I were you, I would not argue on this one. "You don't even know if there _is_ another clue."

Ben glanced back and forth at all three of us, and I noticed how remarkably similar it was to his father's. "Well, I can think of a way that we could find out. And we could do it right now."

Oh, that sounded so wrong, even though I knew what he meant. I _seriously_ had some match-making to do before this was over. Even if it ended up with them loving each other through a lifetime's worth of metal bars.

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**Well, I hope that made up for some of the long waits that I gave to all my favorite readers! As always, R&R! I'll love you for it!**

**xxIrisxx**


	10. Chapter 9 (Part 1): Ciphers

**I have no excuse. Just read and hopefully enjoy, and I hope this maybe sort of makes up for it!**

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**Chapter 14: Ciphers (Part 1)**

**(Blue's POV)**

"I cannot believe we just set the Declaration of Independence down right here on your father's dining room table! I don't want to know what kind of explosions have been happening on here, Ben!" I exclaimed.

"Shhh!" he hushed me. I glared. He knew I hated being shushed. "Dad can't—"

"Looks like animal skin," Patrick interrupted him. I had half a mind to tell him that it was, in fact, animal skin. Animal skin treated with lime. "How old is it?" He asked when everyone turned back to the said document.

"At least 200 years."

"Really? You sure?"

"Pretty darn," I sang, a little too obviously. Everyone looked at me oddly.

"Now, if this thing's in invisible ink, how do we look at it?" Riley asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"Throw it in the oven," Patrick suggested.

Everyone immediately turned to him and dismissed the idea; well, not me. It would have been the smart thing to do, but oh, no! We just _had_ to go and use lemon juice on it, didn't we? Yes, of course. How else would it be done? Oh, I don't know. THROW IT IN THE OVEN?!

"Ferrous sulfate inks can only be brought out with heat." On the tip of my tongue, Patrick. On the tip of my tongue.

"Listen to the scientist, y'all. It'd be smart," I insisted.

"Yes, but this—" Abigail started.

Yes, keep going, keep going...

"—Is very old," Ben said. _And... gone!_ "This is very old, and we can't risk compromising the map!"

Patrick shrugged and stepped away down the hall. With the pizza box and wine glass in hand. "You need a reagent."

"I still say listen to the scientist," I muttered.

"Dad, it's really late. Why don't you get some rest?"

"Oh, he's fine," I said at the same that Patrick said "I'm fine."

The not-yet couple glared at me and Riley tried to but failed miserably, ending up snickering instead.

Ben faced the Declaration once more, me still grumbling about how it was wrong to do this on the dining room table. And not tell Patrick about it. However much I wanted to hold a grudge against Abigail, I didn't want her to get fired for this.

"Lemons," Ben stated.

Oh, yes. Lemons galore were sure to come if I had my way in the match-making game. Ben and Abigail, you had better watch out.

I only realized that this was, in fact, not what Ben was talking about when Riley picked up a bowl of yellow citrus slices and handed it to him. Inward sigh.

He took a single lemon before setting the bowl back down, a lot more forcefully that he probably should have. I could see he was trying to gather up the strength to drip the juices onto the Declaration, and he seemed to do so rather quickly. I was mildy surprised as he began to bring his hand down—the Ben I had known would have taken days just staring at it to finally do that. Well, I hadn't seen him who-know-how-long. People change. I'm sure I had, too, and I recognized that it was probably not for the better.

"You can't do that."

Suddenly, Abigail's gloved hand was encircling Ben's wrist, preventing him from carrying out his act of insanity.

"But it _has_ to be done."

The Germans always have a counter. "Then someone who is trained to handle antique documents is going to do it."

By now they were face to face, and I was restraining myself from slamming their heads together and forcing them to accept the fact that they just _worked_!

He nodded slightly, and I could tell he was thinking her eyes were really pretty, even if I only had the view of the back of his head. "OK."

She smiled gratefully before taking a Q-Tip and the lemon slice from Ben's hand and rubbing them together.

_Evil smirk_.

She rubber her forehead with her wrist quickly when she leaned away. "Now, uh, if there is a secret message, it'll probably be marked by a symbol in the upper right-hand corner."

Ben looked absolutely fascinated as she continued to squeeze the juices onto the Q-Tip. "That's right," he whispered. I smiled quickly before falling back into my professional façade. Well, I tried. The little hint was a smirk was still there, and I could tell when I saw that Riley was staring at my face with an odd expression.

Abigail took a deep breath in and out before giving a hollow laugh. "I am so getting fired for this."

We all leaned in and watched as she held the Q-Tip over the document, hesitating before finally bringing it down and stroking the parchment several times int eh corner to reveal the supposed symbol.

We all waited. And waited. And waited some more. But nothing was happening. Abigail turned to look at Ben, who did as well. She was about to say something terrible, I was sure of it. Well, I couldn't blame her. I was feeling a little down, but I had a thought. Until somebody stole it right off the tip of my tongue.

"I told you." We all looked over at the elder man that I hadn't even noticed enter the room. "You need heat." Sometimes, I swear...

The not-yet couple glance at each other and seemed to reach the same conclusion. They leaned down towards the paper, their faces nearly touching side-by-side.

They let out simultaneous breaths of hot air, which I figured would not be that effective. But I was still on that wrong-streak, I suppose.

And there it appeared. The symbol of the Freemasons, right out of the invisible ink.

"See?" Patrick said, nodding and smiling.

I snapped back up and away from the table doing a little happy dance. Riley had turned around and was watching me, amused, while Ben and Abigail were just looking excited, lost in each others eyes... no, of course not. But soon, though.

"We need more juice."

"We need more heat."

Oh, Abigail, you could not be more correct there. You, my dear, could at least recognize that he likes you. At least try to before he does, then it makes it less awkward, mmkay? No? Fine, be that way.

888

Lemons were grabbed, hair-dryers were lugged in (why did Patrick still have my old one here?) and brushes were pulled from cabinets. Again, why did he still have my old paintbrushes?

Abigail pushed the hot air out on HIGH from the hair-dryer while Ben wrote down the seemingly random sets of numbers that emerged from the back of the Declaration.

What did Riley and I do? Well, Riley sat there and stared on in awe while I was comfortably perched on the back of the couch, looking on with an 'I told you so!' look set into my features. As I said: listen to the scientist.

"That's not a map," Riley noted.

"No dice, kid," I replied.

"You're younger than me: that doesn't work."

I shrugged.

"More clues," Patrick sighed. "What a surprise."

Geez, where did he get his ninja license? I hadn't noticed him until now! Again!

"Are those latitudes and longitudes?" Riley pressed.

"That's why we need the Silence Dogood letters," Ben said.

"That's the key?"

"Yeah. 'The key in Silence undetected'," Ben nodded to Abigail, then turned to Patrick, now done copying numbers. "Dad can we have the letters now?"

Oh, no. Not that look. Bad, bad, bad, something has gone wrong, and it's bad.

"Will somebody please explain to me what these magic numbers are?" Riley exasperated.

"Aw, is the poor kiddy-widdy confused?" I baby-talked. He glared at me through those (adorable) glasses until I resented. "It's an Ottendorf cipher," I said before anybody else could get to it. YES!

"Oh, OK. What's an Ottedorf cipher?" the Confused asked again.

I stifled laughter. "They're just codes. Each of these three numbers goes to a word in a key. Usually a book or a newspaper article that seems random to people on the outside, but obvious to people who are on the inside of the operation."

"In this case, the Silence Dogood letters," Ben continued for me.

"So it's like... the page number of the key text, the line on the page, and the letter in that line." Ben showed Riley what I was talking about on his little Staples notepad.

"So, Dad, where are the letters?"

Back to trouble. Again with that look.

"You know, it's just by sheer happenstance that his grandfather..."

"...Dad..."

"...even found them. They were in an antique desk from the press room..."

"...Dad..."

"...of _The New England Courant_. That's a newspaper."

"Dad, where are the letters?"

Ah, yes, there you go! Ask the question, Ben, don't go off on a tangent and sound like a broken record. Dad... dad... dad... oh, it makes me sick.

"I don't have them, son."

I knew it. I just knew it. Yup, this is bad.

Ben looked a little shocked, but was more on the 'I'm still computing... please wait' phase.

"What?"

"I don't have them."

Ben flopped into a chair and began peeling off his gloves with his teeth. I began searching for another slice of pizza. We were going somewhere, I knew it, and I was not about to be hungry on the way there.

He cleared his throat. "Where are they."

"I donated them to the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia."

"Good for you, Patrick! That's so generous," I praised, which seemed to brighten him up a little bit. Abigail and Riley, the two unoccupied at the moment people sent me wicked looks. Hey, they could starve in the car. I wasn't going to. That was there problem, not mine.

"Time to go," Ben nodded and stood up.

He slung on his jacket and I went to stand next to Abigail, who looked like she might be sick.

"You OK, hun?"

I put a hand on her shoulder for comfort. "I still can't believe it. All this time, no one knew what was on the back."

I nodded in understanding, smirking. I wasn't the only one who figured out the fault in her words. Time for some people to find out the truth. Now at least it wasn't my wrong-doing.

"The back of what?" Patrick stepped towards the parchment and lifted it up before anyone could get to it. I didn't even try.

"Whoa!"

"NO!"

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God."

Well, I certainly would have done that too, if I were him. I mean with "IN CONGRESS. JULY 4, 1977" staring you right in the face, I would have had a heart attack as well. Especially since it was sitting on his dining room table.

"I know," Ben tried.

"Oh, my God. What have you done? This is... this is the..."

"I KNOW!" Ben shouted at him.

Whoa! Down, boy!

"This is the Declaration of Independence!"

"Yes," Abigail said, taking it with her gloved hands. "And it's very delicate."

Oh, because he doesn't know that. I continued to eat my pizza with a smirk on my lips, but I don't think anybody really noticed. I guess I was glad about that.

"You stole it?"

Riley pointed to Ben when Patrick looked over at him.

"Dad, I can explain, but I don't have the time. It was necessary. And you saw the cipher."

"And that will need to another clue, and that will lead to another clue!" OK, I've about heard enough of that. "There is no treasure. I wasted twenty years of my life. And now you've destroyed yours. And you pulled me into all this, too."

Ben, for a moment, had looked torn. But, as always, he bounced back and hid his emotions beihind that wall he so constantly kept up. He needed to get it down, and the only way to do that was through this girl. Well, at least in my opinion. Friends are important, too, and all that, but a guy has got to get the girl. That'll make 'em happy. Especially this one: she seems like a nice match for him. Hence all my non-goody-two-shoes thoughts.

"Well, we can't have that."

* * *

**The next part to this will be up soon! I give up on promising, but it should be up in the next two days, at the most!**

**xxIrisxx**


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